


What's more romantic than flowers?

by Asorenii



Category: The Witcher (TV), The Witcher (TV) RPF, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Consent is Sexy, Dom/sub Undertones, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier is a Brat, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, They love each other, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asorenii/pseuds/Asorenii
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier fuck in a flower field, and lots of soft feelings ensue.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 249





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is very much a distraction from my other wip fic that I'm struggling to do actual plot and dialogue on here take this lightly plot-filled fic chock-full of sex but with Feelings.

"Geralt, I swear, if we don't stop in the new five minutes I will-"   
  
Jaskier's hand with an accusatory finger pointed at Geralt, though he paused before he could threaten any acts of pettiness towards him. His eyes were no longer focused on the Witcher, but on what he'd just passed.   
  
A break between the trees revealed a lush patch of grass and when Jaskier jogged to catch up to his Witcher, he sighed and smacked his hand on Geralt's shoulder pad.   
  
"It's an entire _field,_ Geralt! Please- I promise, no more than an hour. Roach could even graze. She hasn't eaten anything filling since we were at the inn last night."   
  
Geralt, who had been doing his best to ignore the bard's dramatics had to agree on the last point. Roach had been loaded with new supplies at their last stop, a small village on the outskirts of Novigrad. Jaskier had bought new clothes, including a rather heavy- but durable- cloak for the fall and winter months. Geralt had restocked on much-needed herbs, and their coin purse was rather heavy for once, Jaskier having performed for two nights straight in the tavern, singing until he was nearly asleep on his feet.   
  
And Roach- the poor mare- had been given barley hay, which Geralt despised giving her even when money was tight. She needed all the energy she could get, and eating what was practically fire-starter wasn't going to cut it.   
  
He sighed and tugged gently on her reins, Jaskier giving a victorious shout behind him as he went first down the soft tumbling hill and into the field.   
  
The incline was soft- enough so that Jaskier didn't even lose his footing as he raced down and into the clearing.   
  
The field was surrounded on all sides by trees, and was only about fifty feet across on either side. Almost as if it had simply been put overtop where the forest used to be.   
  
But what Geralt was pleased to see is that near the break in the trees was also an area without too much grass. It would be enough to settle for the night, with the Witcher knowing full well Jaskier did not intend to keep his promise of their stay to be under an hour. But truthfully, he didn't mind. Not one bit, watching the bard disappear and reappear in a kicked up cloud of pollen dust from the floor as he practically swam through the tall grass.  
  
Geralt smiled, leading Roach towards the small clearing to loop the reins around the base of a thin tree, giving her plenty of space to walk and graze on the softer, less-trampled grass.   
  
It didn't take long for Jaskier to become tired of frolicking, eventually making his way back to Geralt. His entire face was shiny with sweat, and even from afar Geralt could smell the sweetness of all the pollen and aromatics of crushed petals clinging to the bard's skin and clothes.   
  
Jaskier dropped his lute next to the tree Roach was tied to before turning back towards Geralt, face flushed from exertion.   
  
"That was rather fun, wasn't it?"   
  
Geralt hummed, quirking a brow as Jaskier ditched his doublet, puffing his chemise against his chest a few times trying to cool down.   
  
"For you, maybe. I enjoyed watching."   
  
Jaskier chuckled, rolling his eyes as he took a few steps towards Geralt, tugging on his breastplate.   
  
"Then maybe, instead of being a glum, chafe, grumpy old man, you could _join_ me for a bit of fun in the field. The sun's already beginning to set, and I know that once it's dusk you'll be impossible to convince because you'll want to meditate."   
  
The bard's calloused fingers gently slid along the side of Geralt's armour, sneakily unbuckling both sides at once. He pressed himself flush to the breastplate as he removed it, letting it fall on top of Geralt's feet.   
  
"Please?"   
  
Geralt stared at Jaskier for a moment before nodding, eyes glued to the bard's hands as Jaskier slowly undid the rest of the clasps, ties, and buckles for his armour.   
  
Soon, Jaskier had removed everything, leaving it in a pile at both their feet. Geralt's undershirt was moist with sweat, and with the sun setting and the cool breeze blowing in from between the trees, he felt the hair on his neck and arms raise into gooseflesh.   
  
Jaskier simply smiled crookedly, a gleam in his eyes as he took Geralt's hand to pull him into the field.   
  
Admittedly, stomping through grass with a delightfully flushed and giddy bard was fun for Geralt. Jaskier's laugh echoed in the clearing as they neared the centre of the field. Geralt's chest flooded with warmth once they stopped, and Jaskier adjusted how he'd first held Geralt's hand- a firm clasp around his palm, to instead intertwining their fingers.   
  
Jaskier brushed his thumb over Geralt's knuckles, looking up at him with a soft smile.   
  
"You deserve a break sometimes, too, Geralt."   
  
The Witcher hummed, following the bard's lead as he sat down in the grass. Jaskier immediately pressed into his side, sending both of them to the ground, with Jaskier braced above Geralt.   
  
"Geralt?"   
  
The Witcher looked up, eyes dilating as Jaskier looked at him with a gaze so soft he felt that certain part of his chest ache- the one that burnt with a love so passionate that it was sometimes painful.   
  
"Yes, Jaskier?"   
  
The bard above shivered hearing the rumble in Geralt's voice, sinking down to lay on top of him, one hand splayed on his chest, the other cupping Geralt's cheek.   
  
Gently, Jaskier leant forward and Geralt met him halfway eagerly.   
  
The bard's lips were plush and soft, moisturized from a small pot of oil balm he'd gotten some time ago. Geralt never admitted to it, but Jaskier must have known how the Witcher stared as the bard would apply it, wishing it was his thumb tracing the outline of the man's lips.   
  
Jaskier pressed forward into the kiss needily, tilting his head to the side to encourage Geralt to deepen the kiss, his teeth nipping on the Witcher's lips.   
  
Geralt groaned and brought his hands up to Jaskier's hips, one slung fully over while the other focused on cupping one side of Jaskier's arse. Geralt slowly moved, his tongue pressing against Jaskier's, swallowing the soft noises the bard had started to make. After a moment of swift movement, breaking the kiss for a second only to push Jaskier beneath him, switching their positions so that Geralt was now on top, Jaskier's chest pinned to the ground by one of Geralt's hands.   
  
"Eager much?" Geralt teased, leaning back down to nose at the bard's neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin underneath the juncture of his jaw and ear. His hands traced over the laces of Jaskier's chemise, the man beneath him gasping quietly, hands scrabbling along Geralt's chest and back.   
  
" _Geralt_ ," Jaskier breathed, keening as the Witcher bit a spot on his neck particularly hard, running his tongue gently along the indent his teeth had made, gently sucking on the skin to soothe the pain.  
  
"Tell me what you want, Jas," Geralt murmured, slowly tugging the chemise up and away from the bard's torso. Jaskier was quick to help, arching his back so Geralt could push the fabric as far up as possible. He knew what came next but still whined when Geralt leaned down to nip at his chest, dragging his teeth along one of Jaskier's nipples.   
  
"Fuck- you, I- _hng oh fuck-_ Geralt, please," Jaskier whined, impatiently canting his hips upwards. An uncomfortable tent had formed, his cock rubbing uncomfortably against his breeches as Geralt purposefully paused, allowing the bard to be shameless for a moment before reaching a hand down, cupping over the bulge and palming it gently.   
  
Jaskier cursed quietly, one hand coming to tangle in Geralt's hair to pull his face down into a messy kiss, moaning into the Witcher's mouth as both their hands worked to rid themselves of their respective pants and trousers.   
  
Slowly, Geralt lowered his hips, his hand coming to brush gently against Jaskier's cock. The bard whimpered, his head falling back and mouth open in a silent gasp as the Witcher held both their cocks together, using the slickness of their precome to aid in the slide between his palm.   
  
Jaskier bucked his hips in tandem with Geralt, though eventually, the Witcher's pace grew faster which caused their cocks to bump together wonderfully, the heads sliding past one another, the wetness and heat of Geralt's hand growing unbearable.   
  
" _Shit- Geralt please!"_ Jaskier whined, his face mottled pink as he desperately fucked into the Witcher's hand.   
  
Geralt, the bastard he was, removed his hand and let Jaskier curse and whimper below him, brows furrowed as he breathed heavily, coming off of the edge he'd brought him to.   
  
"What do you want, Jaskier?" Geralt said quietly, his voice dropping low and gravelly and he caged the bard in with his arms, bringing their hips together but not moving. Jaskier whined beneath him, whatever he breathed out indecipherable.   
  
" _Jaskier_."  
  
"You! Fuck Geralt, you please-" Jaskier babbled, trying his damndest to buck his hips but the pressure of Geralt's body atop of his pinned them firmly into the ground below.  
  
"You already have me, little lark," Geralt murmured, his head falling to Jaskier's neck, pressing soft kisses along the strong column of it, down and across his collarbone. "What do you need?"  
  
Jaskier breathed out raggedly, a half-sob, half-gasp coming from him as he tilted his head to the side to allow Geralt a better access to the skin there.  
  
"To come! Please, Geralt, I-"  
  
Geralt heard what he needed to hear apparently, as he began to rut his hips against Jaskier's, one hand travelling back down to jack the bard off as Geralt used the cleft of his ass to rut into.  
  
Jaskier moaned brokenly, lifting one leg up and over Geralt's back, causing the Witcher's cock to brush up against the rim of his entrance with every thrust.  
  
" _Geralt please, oh please- please- fuck, fuck- fuck!_ "  
  
Jaskier gave a choked moan as he came, abdomen rolling as he covered his chest as well as Geralt's with a line of come. He babbled and moaned quietly, panting to try to catch his breath as Geralt used him as a wet body to rut against.   
  
The Witcher's hips pistoned forward, his cock dripping with precome as he used Jaskier's ass to try and find the friction he needed.  
  
Jaskier tapped his shoulder and for a moment Geralt halted, blown out eyes focusing on the man below him.  
  
"Jas?"  
  
Jaskier took a moment to take in a deep enough gulp of air to sate the need for it, pushing Geralt back for a moment to bring his legs together before bending them back to rest his knees against his chest.  
  
"Use my thighs, darling-"  
  
Geralt slowly repositioned himself, the dryness of the skin quickly fading as Jaskier tensed his muscles, squeezing Geralt's cock perfectly. The Witcher choked on a moan for a moment, using one hand to press Jaskier's legs against him, the other at his waist to hold him steady. The fast slap of skin-on-skin echoed between the two of them, Jaskier breathing hard and moaning softly at every occasional brush of friction over his overstimulated cock, and Geralt grunting and dropping low, breathy moans as he chased his orgasm.  
  
Geralt's hips broke their pattern of quick thrusts in favour of stuttered short ones, and after a moment Geralt curled over Jaskier, a deep groan of the bard's name spilling from his lips as he came between Jaskier's thighs.  
  
For a moment, everything was quiet aside from both of the men's heavy breathing. The moment was only interrupted by a soft whinny in the distance. Geralt glanced up to find Roach brushing her side against the tree, her front hoof hitting the ground irritably.  
  
"I think," He started, taking a breath before glancing back down to Jaskier. "-that Roach may be a bit jealous from the lack of attention."  
  
Jaskier chuckled beneath him, groaning softly as Geralt leaned back up, slowly dropping Jaskier's legs back to their respected positions. He hesitated for a moment before swiping his thumb along the bard's stomach, collecting a smear of come on the tip. He held eye contact with Jaskier as he brought the thumb to his mouth to swipe the spend off of it.  
  
Jaskier gave a tired huff, shaking his head. "Don't tease me, Geralt, I can't go another round tonight."  
  
The Witcher matched the bard's laugh, helping the man fetch his discarded clothing. They both dressed back to an almost-respectable level of coverage before moving to stand.  
  
"I'm almost relieved that Roach doesn't know the difference between words and moans," Jaskier said, leaning heavily into the Witcher's side as they walked back to the small clearing where the mare stood.   
  
"She knows the difference in tone. I'm sure she's well aware of the fact that your moans are much different than a command to walk." Geralt supplied, kissing the crown of Jaskier's head before splitting to retrieve a roll from their saddle pack. Jaskier sputtered for a moment, shaking his head before following Geralt, waiting beside Roach as the Witcher laid out the bedroll and woollen blanket onto the least rocky spot on the ground.   
  
"Should we make a fire?" Jaskier asked, glancing over his shoulder to try and look for wood, but the setting sun had already dipped far below the horizon, and the shadow was far too dark to see anything in the tree's own shadow clearly.  
  
"Not if we're sharing one. We have food in the pack for breakfast tomorrow, and we're less than a day's travel from the next village."   
  
Geralt pat the bedroll as he slid himself inside of it. Jaskier was quick to join, pressed snugly into Geralt's chest, one of the Witcher's arms beneath his head as a very muscular pillow.   
  
"I love you," Jaskier breathed out, pressing a soft kiss to the centre of Geralt's chest.   
  
Again, that painful ache of affection burned in the Witcher's chest. He only pulled Jaskier closer, inhaling the soft scent of the bard's everlasting chamomile and woodsy oils, sweat, and the sweet flood of content radiating off of him.   
  
Geralt stayed quiet for a moment after, his lips barely brushing Jaskier's head once more before murmuring the phrase back. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and feelings still exist and both of them are still Very Pent Up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was supposed to be a oneshot but i guess writing smut is a good way to break writer's block

Without a fire, Jaskier woke up for once to the smell of sweat and leather rather than a faceful of smoke and ash.   
  
He blinked his eyes open slowly, vision clearing out to reveal it was the earliest hours of the morning. He tilted his head slightly, having turned around sometime during the night to face Geralt rather than away from him.   
  
Even without Geralt's Witcher senses, Jaskier knew that the Witcher was awake. Either trying to hold onto the last remains of sleep, or to convince Jaskier to not move and make them both have to truly get up and ready themselves for another day of travel.   
  
The bard weighed his options, with the promise of staying in the warm bedroll, legs tangled with his Witcher, definitely coming to trump over the idea of having to not do that. He pressed his face against Geralt's shoulder, warm breath ghosting over his neck. He chuckled softly when he heard Geralt grumble, and his arms shift to wrap around his back a bit tighter.   
  
"Good morning to you too, I suppose," He murmured, resting his cheek against the curve of Geralt's bicep, looking up to now squinting, but open, amber eyes. "You slept well."   
  
Geralt hummed, leaning down to peck the bard on the lips. "I did," he dropped his head to go back and kiss the deep purple bruise blooming on the bard's neck from the night before, earning a slight hitch in Jaskier's breathing. "Did you?"   
  
Jaskier gave a soft verbal confirmation, shifting to slot himself between Geralt's legs, hooking one over the other. Even after the night before, he could still feel the half-hard cock pressing through Geralt's breeches against his thigh. He had no doubt Geralt could feel his cock against his own thigh, too. Gently, he rolled his hips, a soft pressure pressing into the Witcher's leg. Not enough to be desperate, but a wordless request.   
  
After a moment, Geralt quirked a brow and reciprocated the movement, one of his hands dropping from between Jaskier's shoulders to rest on the low of his back, pushing the bard's hips forward.   
  
Jaskier breathed through his teeth, letting his head fall and press against Geralt's chest as the soft rutting turned into rough friction, the Witcher's hips dragging up Jaskier's thigh in sync with his own desperate movements.   
  
"Fuck- Geralt," Jaskier breathed, using one hand to pull the Witcher's head down, meeting him in a messy kiss. Their teeth clacked momentarily, Geralt's slight fangs catching on the soft inner skin of Jaskier's lip as it was nipped teasingly. The bard groaned and moved to lay on his back, bringing the Witcher up and on top of him. The bedroll around them offered a soft groan as the fabric was stretched, though one of Geralt's hands busied itself with pulling at the strings on the side, loosening the hold the roll held on them.   
  
He had to break from the kiss momentarily, throwing the now loose covering off and over onto the bottom of the bedroll, exposing them both down to their knees. It allowed for Geralt to lean back down to kiss Jaskier, who'd brought one leg up to be bent while the other spread out slightly, trying to relieve the building pressure in his trousers.   
  
The kiss broke once more, Jaskier gasping for a breath of air as Geralt palmed him through his trousers, roughly fondling his cock. "Needy, aren't you?"   
  
" _Fu-uhn-ck._ Only for you," Jaskier breathed back, his breath hitching and ending in a soft moan as Geralt continued to tease and grind his palm into his leaking cock. A damp spot formed on the top of the tent, Geralt taking absolute advantage of that and grasping almost fully around his cock through the fabric, gently pressing a thumb underneath where the head was.   
  
Jaskier let his head fall from where it had been, chin to his chest as he watched Geralt, only to roll back as the Witcher riled him up more.   
  
Geralt could smell the thick, sickly sweet scent of arousal surrounding the bard. It was always suffocating and thick, like molasses as Jaskier's noises grew louder and more desperate. He pushed the bard to the very edge before removing his hand, watching as Jaskier's cock twitched and bobbed under the strain of the fabric, the damp spot now nearly triple the size of what it had been.   
  
Jaskier softly bucked his hips up, chasing the delicious friction Geralt had provided. As the Witcher knelt above him, he could feel the heat radiating off of him, whining as he opened his eyes to look up at the offending man. "Why'd you stop?"   
  
Geralt nodded behind them, towards their supplies. "Can't exactly go much further without some oil. Don't want to hurt you." Jaskier sighed, feeling wonderfully warm at the concern in his Witcher's voice with simultaneously feeling the most pain coil tight in his stomach, simply just the thought of a few more strokes of Geralt's hand enough to make him leak more precome. "Then why don't you get it?"   
  
"You have to ask nicely for it." Oh, the bastard. Jaskier huffed, moving to bring his hands up to Geralt only for the Witcher to grab both of his wrists and pin them above his head. A groan slipped from him as he tested how serious Geralt was being at keeping him there. After the first wiggle, Geralt's hand pressed more firmly against his wrists, a nearly painful pressure as they were smushed together. Serious then, alright.   
  
Jaskier bit his lip, eyes flicking up to Geralt's, then back down to his pathetic cock, a bit deflated from lack of attention. "Please can you go get the slick, Geralt?" He asked, pursing his lips into a small pout, eyes coming back up to lock with the Witcher's.   
  
Geralt hummed but didn't move, only slightly relieving the pressure off of Jaskier's wrists. "You know how to ask, don't you lark?" He teased, lowering his hips to ghost over Jaskier's, the soft touch enough for the bard to shiver below him. "The slick- Geralt, _please_." Jaskier breathed, face beginning to grow redder, his cheeks and nose already flushed a deep pink.   
  
"One more chance," Geralt murmured, dropping to speak directly next to Jaskier's ear. His stubble scraped gently across the bard's cheek and he turned to nip at the soft skin of his ear, holding back a groan as Jaskier shook below him. "Please go fetch the slick, _Witcher_ ," Jaskier breathed, stilling as Geralt froze above him. For a moment, the bard held his breath, but he let it go once Geralt almost shot off of him, very quickly going to rummage through his pack. Jaskier relished in the roughness Geralt returned with, pulling the bard and on the bedroll and forcing both his legs open with his knees. Jaskier gasped and let his head fall to the side and Geralt lifted his hips up, removing his trousers almost painfully slow.   
  
" _Geralt-"  
_  
The Witcher groaned, the cork on the small vial of oil popping off and discarded onto the side of the bedroll. He allowed for a decent amount to cover his fingers before going back to kneel over the bard, one hand gently rubbing the readily-warming oil against his balls and rim.   
  
Jaskier groaned once more, gasping as slowly, Geralt worked his first finger into him. It had been far too long since he'd properly fucked Jaskier, and even one of his large fingers gave a slight burn as it entered. He welcomed it though, as right after Geralt had pushed it in to the knuckle, he curled it up and pressed into the spot that sent stars behind Jaskier's eyelids.   
  
_"Fuck!_ Geralt please, please- more-" He babbled, slowly rolling his hips as Geralt fucked him with one finger. The pleasant burn now gone, Jaskier needed _more_.   
  
The Witcher obliged, adding a second finger, which added the same pleasant burn up Jaskier's spine, only growing hotter once Geralt began to scissor his fingers, only occasionally going deep enough to where Jaskier could feel somewhat full. He didn't even have to ask because after a minute of languid scissoring, Geralt added the last finger he needed and began to fuck three fingers into Jaskier, curling them slightly as he moved his wrist to force them deep into the bard.   
  
Jaskier offered a half-gasp, half-moan, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to match the rolls of his hips to line with the movement of Geralt's fingers. He only managed it a handful of times before Geralt was removing his hand, leaving Jaskier to clench around nothing, wet eyes looking up as Geralt shoved down his own breeches, again grabbing the vial to slick his own cock up before moving Jaskier's legs apart a bit more, resting the tip against his entrance.   
  
" _Geralt, please, fuck me-_ " Jaskier breathed, a moan caught in his throat as Geralt leaned down, rolling his hips to push his cock into Jaskier, his hip bones meeting Jaskier's as he bottomed out. The bard whined, both legs coming up to wrap around Geralt's waist, the Witcher's hands falling to Jaskier's hips as slowly he began to properly fuck him.   
  
The first few thrusts were deep but didn't hit the part that made his bard _sing_.   
  
So he adjusted his grip on Jaskier, one hand on his hip while the other braced against the man's chest. He thrust into Jaskier again, finally hearing a gasp torn out of him, followed by a high whine.   
  
Geralt pulled Jaskier's hips up and fucked into him, punching the air from his lungs with each angled thrust, Jaskier below him near sobbing as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge. Sweat formed on Geralt's back, and he could see it shining on Jaskier's forehead. He leaned down, careful to not headbutt the bard as he reached to press a heated kiss onto his lips. Again, Jaskier's mouth opened and a wanton moan was muffled as Geralt's tongue licked into his mouth.   
  
Jaskier's own hips moved with Geralt's thrusts before stuttering, the bard pulling back from the kiss to gasp, a garbled moan of the Witcher's name spilling from his lips as he came, cock trapped between the hot skin of Geralt's stomach and his own, slicking both their stomachs with spurts of come.   
  
The bard whined below him, now clenching around Geralt tight, the spasms and soft twitches that came with finishing providing a tight heat for Geralt to chase his own finish into. He roughly fucked into the bard, muttering Jaskier's name as pressure slowly built in his core before another whine of ' _Geralt_ ' sent him over the edge- coming deep into the bard.   
  
Both sat for a moment, panting, boneless and tingling.   
  
_"Oh, sweet Melitele-"_  
  
Jaskier gave a breathless chuckle, worming his arms up and around Geralt's neck, looking up at him fondly. Still, even with cooling spend between them, Geralt's cock still in him, and the offending, all-too-bright morning sun, it felt perfect. Jaskier's chest felt warm and he gently pulled Geralt down, pressing a sweet and soft kiss to his lips, one hand going to curl around the Witcher's jaw, thumb brushing tenderly along his cheek.   
  
Geralt sagged into Jaskier, melting on top of the other man as he kissed him languidly, leaning into the warm touch of his hand as well as into the rest of his body.   
  
After what felt like hours, Jaskier tucked his chin down, breaking the kiss and pushing their foreheads together gently. His eyes stayed focused on Geralt's, who stared down at the bard's lips for a moment after the kiss ended before slowly looking up to lock amber with cornflower blue.   
  
He beat Jaskier to it this time, a gentle smiling tugging at his lips.   
  
"I love you."   
  
Jaskier beamed under him, eyes crinkled up at the sides as he shook his head, mumbling something indistinct before pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt's lips.   
  
"I love you too, you silly man. Now-" Jaskier tapped Geralt's shoulders, coaxing them both to sit up- Jaskier on his forearms and Geralt up and onto his knees.   
  
"We ought to pack up and head out to town, shouldn't we?"   
  
Geralt, who'd looked dazed and warm for a moment let the tenderness slowly fade, frowning as he reluctantly agreed. "It's not even half a day's travel-"   
  
"Ah-ba-bah-bap! No whining," Jaskier teased, wincing slightly as he pulled himself out from underneath Geralt, bending his legs to regain some feeling back in his calves and feet. "We- ah, we need to be there as the dinner crowd rolls in. That way, I can perform both for dinner, and for supper- twice the money, which means another promised meal and hay for Roach."   
  
Geralt couldn't argue with that. He watched lazily, slowly pulling his own soft dick back into his pants, lacing them up properly as Jaskier used the side of the bedroll to wipe the spend off his stomach, grimacing as he moved to his knees to reach for his shirt. It only took a few minutes until they'd both finished redressing, Jaskier having also replaced his doublet from the night before, smoothing it down as Geralt untied Roach.   
  
The mare shook her head, nudging into Geralt's shoulder affectionate as he slipped her a sugar cube from one of the ration sacks. Jaskier joined his other side, lute secured along his back and boots pulled up all the way.   
  
Geralt slipped one foot into the stirrups and pulled himself up and over Roach's back, sliding back just slightly before cocking his head to encourage Jaskier to follow.   
  
"On Roach? You'll let me ride her?"   
  
"Only because you're already bow-legged. Now get one before I leave you here."   
  
Jaskier gave a hearty chuckle, grabbing Geralt's offered hand as he pulled himself up and into the saddle as well, seated in front of the Witcher. He leant back just slightly, resting the back of his head on Geralt's chest.   
  
"Off we go?"   
  
Geralt only hummed as he kicked his heels gently, Roach jostling them for just a moment as she began to move forwards. 


End file.
